


Feathers

by LondonGypsy



Category: Kane (Band)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Feathers & Featherplay, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 04:46:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4006363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LondonGypsy/pseuds/LondonGypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve wants feathers in his hair. <br/>Christian helps. <br/>Things get out of hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feathers

**Author's Note:**

> Transferring some old fics from my LJ to here.  
> This is from Sep '11.  
> Sadly that video that inspired this isn't online anymore.   
> If you have seen it though, you might remember the look on Steve's face and the blushing - well, it never needed much to write some plotless porn with these boys.   
> A huge thank you for beta'ing to my darlin [SuperWhoLockGypsy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperWhoLockGypsy/pseuds/SuperWhoLockGypsy)  
> All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

 

 

“Fuck. Come on, you stupid thing.”

Christian looks up from his seat across the aisle, arching an eyebrow at his band mate.

“What?”

Steve grunts and adjusts the mirror leaning against the backpack on the table in front of him.

“These stupid things won’t stay in.”

Christian chuckles.

“Are you putting those ridiculous feathers in your hair again?”

Steve throws him an annoyed glare.

“Yes, and stop making fun of me. If I remember correctly you had them in your mop, too.”

Christian blushes and shakes his head.

“Only because you made me wear them. When I was drunk,” he grumbles.

Steve just grins at him and continues with his task.

But the feathers are tiny and slip through his fingers every time he tries to secure them.

“Fuck it,” he calls and throws the pliers on the table.

He stands up and wanders through the bus; they are on their way to Nashville before the Kentucky gig in two days.

“C'mon, dude, they don’t even look that great,” Christian says, biting back a grin.

Steve's gaze is icy as he stops in his tracks and turns to face him.

“What do you know about fashion, man?! I like 'em and the girls do, too.”

Christian flinches.

“Okay, point for you,” he growls and looks out of the window, suddenly in a bad mood.

He hears Steve patting along the aisle, back and forth, but he tries to ignore him.

The landscape outside slowly changes and as the first signs of Nashville pass the window a small smile appears on his lips.

“Welcome home” he mumbles quietly and starts packing his stuff together.

*

The apartment they always rent when in Nashville feels like home for Christian. He's used to being somewhat homeless; with being on the road so much and shooting in Portland, he has no real place to call home. This place, though, always felt like the one place to be.

He strolls through the rooms, opening windows to let the stale air out and some warm summer breeze in. Steve unpacks his bag in his bedroom as Christian passes the open door.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Christian looks up and Steve watches him closely, a pair of jeans in his hands.

“Yeah, sure. Why are you asking?”

Steve shrugs and puts the pants in the drawer.

“Dunno, you've been pretty quiet since we arrived.”

“Nah, I'm okay.”

“Good. Oh, do we cook tonight or are we going out for dinner?”

“Your choice.”

“Well, I'm kinda beat, it was a long trip here....”

“We can order out,” Christian interrupts him, not really wanting to stand in the kitchen; it’s way to hot.

Steve nods and puts the last shirts in the drawer and closes it.

“Chinese sounds pretty good to me,” he says as he walks past Christian in direction of the living room.

*

One hour later they are sitting on the porch, the remainder of their dinner on the table between them.

Steve leans back and puts his bare feet on the handrail. The sun is setting but it’s still hot; music from across the street drifts through the still air and it smells of BBQ and dry hay.

“I missed this. Nashville is still the best city in the world,” Steve says, taking another drink of his beer.

Christian nods; he wholeheartedly agrees.

They sit silently until Steve gets up and gathers the food containers together. He disappears inside and as he comes back he carries a bottle of Jack and two glasses.

“Ohh, look, desert,” Christian jokes and pours them both a drink.

Steve goes back inside and Christian groans as he sees what he's carrying.

“Seriously?” he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm as Steve sets the mirror and his feathers on the table.

“Shut up,” Steve shoots back and downs the content of his glass before he eyes the small strands on the table.

“Okay, you little bastards, let’s try this again.”

He grabs the mirror. He glances over the table and as his eyes fall on Christian, who watches him amused, his expression turns wicked.

“Here, hold this,” he grins and forces the mirror in Christian's hand.

“Hell no, I ain’t holding this,” he protests, pushing the mirror back, but Steve doesn’t give in.

“C'mon, please??”

Steve bats his lashes and Christian rolls his eyes.

“You're such a pain in the ass, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Christian sighs and sets his glass down. He shifts in his seat, takes the mirror and holds it across the table.

“A little higher,” Steve mumbles as he ducks his head to see himself.

Christian grumbles but complies; he props his elbows on the wood to hold the mirror closer.

Steve leans over the table, fumbling with the hooking tool and the end of the feather. Christian watches him a while before he sighs and sets the mirror down.

“Gimme that,” he grunts and gets up, circuiting the table.

Steve hands the needle and the securing ring to him.

“You have to slide it over this and then pull some hair through it and crimp the bead with the pliers.”

Christian nods and fiddles with the crimping tool before he gets some of Steve's hair.

It’s warm, bleached from the sun and feels soft between his fingers.

“Dude, you gotta twist it,” Steve says, shifting in his chair when Christian isn't moving, just holding the strand in his hand.

“Ohh, yeah, sorry,” he murmurs and twists the tool around, securing the feather in Steve's hair.

“Done.”

He steps back, irritated at the sudden churning in his stomach.

Steve grabs the mirror from the table and takes a look.

“Cool, thanks,” he says. His voice sounds almost normal, but Christian knows him better than anybody else and he hears the shaky undertone.

“Uhm... would...would you mind... two more?”

Steve's voice is now audibly trembling and his hand is slightly shaking as he hands Christian another bead and the feather.

Their fingers brush over each other and Christian hears the silent gasp that slips past his own lips. It’s nothing he can control; the touch sends a spark along his spine and it’s weird but it feels ... right.

He frowns; this is strange, he never had such thoughts or feelings and it worries him a bit. But then he shakes his head and concentrates on the difficult task to add more feathers into Steve's hair. But his hands aren’t as steady as they were before and the small strand keeps slipping through his fingers.

“Shit,” he scowls as the feather slides down and into Steve's shirt.

Steve giggles and the sound of that lights a hot burning fire in Christian's veins. He had always liked the way Steve laughed, loud and heartfelt, but that little chuckle there has his heart beating faster and his palms becoming sweaty. He swallows hard while Steve squirms to get the feather out.

“Can you...?”, he asks, glancing at Christian and wiggles his back.

Christian clears his throat and hesitantly pulls on the neck of Steve's thin shirt. His fingertips tingle at the thought of that tanned skin against them and he takes a deep breath to calm himself.

He reaches into the shirt and his knuckles brush over Steve's muscular back. He growls involuntarily, his heart beats so fast that he can't hear anything else. He gets a hold of the feather and as he pulls it out the tip of it slides over Steve's spine, making him shudder heavily.

“Ohhh...” he buzzes and his head falls a bit forward, “do that again.”

His voice is low, and Christian can't help himself. He slides the feather over Steve's shoulder blades, along his neck and over the exposed skin of his chest.

Steve literally purrs and Christian's dick twitches.

“What the fuck,” he murmurs, shocked at the feelings swirling through his body but he can't stop. He swipes the feather over every inch of naked skin and Steve's shivering constantly at the light touch.

“Fuck, that feels great,” Steve grumbles, twisting his neck to give Christian better access.

Christian is panting now, his hands are trembling heavily but he can't tear his eyes away from the blissful expression on Steve's face.

His eyes are closed, his lashes are fluttering a bit and a tiny smile lingers on his full lips.

Christian just stares. He can't look away as he lets the feather glide over Steve's chin, upwards, over his cheeks, his closed lids and back down over his nose. As he reaches his mouth, he hesitates for a split second but he has already gone too far to stop now.

He lets the feather fall from his numb fingers and runs a thumb over Steve's bottom lip, slowly, feeling the sensual swell of it, warm and soft against his skin.

He's neither prepared for Steve’s mouth to open nor for his tongue to flick against the tip his thumb. He freezes; he can't breathe and the blood is rushing loudly in his ears.

His eyes are glued to Steve's mouth, whose lips are parted and his tongue licks again over his thumb. He slowly opens his eyes, and as he glance up to Christian through his lashes, the intensity in his eyes starts him.

Neither of them says anything, they just watch each other for what seems hours, frozen in their positions.

Steve is the first to move; his hand roams over the table until he finds another one of those feathers. His chair scrapes over the ground as he stands up and Christian instinctively takes a step back, but the table behind him stops his backtracking.

“My turn,” Steve whispers, his voice is rough and it sends a bone-crushing shiver through Christian's limbs.

His eyes fall shut at the first contact. It's just a swipe over his skin but he's oversensitive and he feels every single inch of the little strand.

It’s like a gentle breeze, running up his arm, tickling a little..

“Feels great, doesn't it?”

The words barely reach his ear but as they do, he can only nod and there's that giggle again, husky and seductive.

Christian groans; it’s too much, too tempting.

His eyes snap open and find Steve's blue gaze on him, dark and burning. Heat coils through his veins; his dick is so hard it hurts and he couldn't stop even if he wanted to.

He reaches out, curling a shaking hand around Steve's neck and crashes their mouths together.

There's no doubt, no hesitation, only lips and tongues, teeth and heat.

Steve's hands come up, twisting in Christian's hair, pulling him closer, pressing his heated body against Christian's, hard and urgent. Their tongues slide against each other, curling, fighting in their need to be as close as possible. Steve's leg pushes between Christian's thighs, rubbing against his aching cock and God, it feels so good.

He rocks against him, desperate for some friction as he moans into Steve’s mouth. Steve presses harder; with his hands in Christian’s hair he tugs his head back and his lips slide over Christian's jaw, his neck and then Steve bites down, sucking hard on the thin skin at Christian's collarbone.

Christian can feel the blood under his skin, feels how it fills the bruise Steve is creating; it will be dark and quite visible tomorrow, and he doesn't care. He tangles one hand in Steve's hair, feeling the feather in it while the other hand slides down his back and under the shirt.

Christian runs his palm over the smooth skin of his back, feeling the damp spot in the small of it. He urges him closer, need and want taking over every cell of his body.

He lets go of Steve's hair and shoves his other hand under the shirt, growling deeply in his throat. Steve is shaking, his breath comes in short, harsh pants and he claws his hands into Christian's shoulders.

His head falls back, exposing the long, vulnerable neck as Christian scratches his fingernails over the full length of his back, and then he whimpers.

With a low grunt Christian grabs the lapels of Steve's shirt and just rips it open.

He must see, touch, feel him or he’s going to explode. His hands slide restlessly over Steve’s now naked chest, over his hard nipples and the freckled skin. He twists one of the little nubs between his fingers and the sound Steve makes at this is just plain pornographic. Christian lowers his head and licks over the other one, grazing his teeth over it and Steve arches into his mouth, moaning loudly.

His leg is still between Christian's and as he adds some pressure, rubbing against his throbbing dick, Christian loses it. He spins Steve around, jerks down the fly of his pants and has his hand around Steve’s cock before he can even protest.

Steve slumps against Christian, his ass pressing hard against his groin and he groans loudly as he circles his hips, making Christian see stars at the sensation.

“God, yes.”

Steve's voice has lost all his usual easiness and sounds needy and demanding. He grinds against Christian's dick again and Christian tightens his grip around Steve's cock, feeling it pulsing in his palm.

Christian rolls his eyes, his head drops on Steve's shoulder as he starts jerking him off. First he keeps a slow but steady pace, instinctively knowing that he won’t last long, yet still wanting to tease him.

Steve’s fingers slide behind him, between them, cupping the bulge in his Christian's jeans and squeezes. Christian yelps and moves faster, Steve’s hand still around his jeans covered cock.

“Yeah, that’s is, just there, God, yes, harder, come on, Kane, faster.”

The words are low and rumble through his chest, making them both shudder at the dark arousal.

Christian feels the tingle in the back of his spine, hot and rising as he lets go of the hold he has around Steve's waist, popping the buttons of his own too-tight jeans. He slips his hand inside, sighing as his fingers close around his own needy flesh.

Steve stops his mutterings as he feels the up and down in his back and he slowly turns. The look on his face is something Christian has never seen: his eyes are glowing darkly, the pupils are blown wide.

“Don't you fucking dare,” he growls and slaps his hand away, closing his own hand around Christian. His palm is burning on Christian's skin, his grip is tight and Christian bites his lips as he groans and rocks into Steve's hand.

Christian's right hand is still around Steve's cock, the pre-come easing the friction. He twists his wrist and cups Steve's balls, sliding a finger past it and Steve cries out, digging his free hand in Christian's arm.

“Oh God, fuck, yes...”

Steve's angling his own hand as he presses further against Christian, tightening the hold on him, working him fast and hard.

Both are panting, foreheads resting against each other, lips searching one another. But they are too caught up in the sensation of the unfamiliar hand around them and instead of kissing, they just breathe into each others mouth, cursing and gasping.

Christian wraps his free arm around Steve's neck, searching the warmth of his hair again, entwining his fingers in the blonde mass.

“Close, so close,” he murmurs and then he comes in Steve's hand, spilling over him. His view gets blurry as he rides out a spectacular orgasm, gasping and shaking, blood rushing loudly in his ears.

He can hear Steve's voice, hoarse, incoherent, and then he cries out, coating Christian's fingers with his release. His cock in Christian's hand is pulsing, shooting burst after burst of sticky hot come against his palm and wrist.

He sways and then collapses against Christian, who can barely stay on his feet himself. He tumbles against the table, holding Steve with one arm and pants in his hair while he trembles in the afterglow.

It’s quiet, only their calming breath is to be heard, the sun is painting Steve’s back golden. Christian wants to bite and lick over his skin, mapping every single inch of it with his hands and his mouth, remembering every line and freckle on it.

He moans, not caring how desperate he sounds, even in his own ears. He feels Steve mouthing over his neck, his shoulder, and he shudders heavily at the moist touch.

Eventually he is able to release Steve's dick and he wipes his hand on his jeans. Steve lifts his head, looking up through heavy lids, his eyes are clouded and hazy and Christian has never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

Steve opens his mouth to say something but Christian, suddenly afraid of what he might say, closes it with his lips.

For a second Steve's not responding but then Christian feels those lips curl and part for him and he’s kissing him back, thoroughly and slow, inching closer towards him.

“You're not going to wear feathers again without thinking of this,” Christian murmurs and Steve chuckles.

“And you won’t be able to see them without thinking what I can do to you with them,” he replies quietly and bites down on Christian's bruised bottom lip before he pulls back.

His gaze is clear as he searches Christian's eyes, a questioning look in them.

Christian sees it, knowing the answer within in a heartbeat and as he nods, the smile that breaks free on Steve's face is breathtaking.

“Let’s take a shower,” he mumbles, taking a step back and shedding his ruined jeans.

Christian lets his eyes roam over his naked body, the long, muscular legs, his narrow hips and his toned chest. He groans as his spent dick gives a lazy twitch.

Steve sees it and he laughs roughly. The sound of it makes Christian's knees buckle.

Steve raises an eyebrow before he turns and walks back inside.

“You're coming?” he asks over his shoulder and he cants his hips, an invitation Christian is eager to accept. He almost stumbles over his own feet as he gets rid of his own jeans and pulls the shirt over his head.

Steve's eyes narrow greedily as they slide over Christian's naked form and his hand returns to his own cock, squeezing it.

“Fuck.”

Christian grins and it feels just as easy as everything regarding Steve.

“Working on that,” he growls, closing the distance between them and kisses Steve roughly.

The low laugh rumbles in Steve's chest but gets replaced with a long moan as Christian forces his tongue past his slack lips, licking deep into his mouth and enjoying the shudders he causes in Steve’s body.

“Damn those feathers,” Steve mumbles as Christian pulls back, breathing heavily.

“Oh, I really like those feathers,” Christian's murmurs, tugging on the one in Steve’s now messy hair, “C'mon, I wanna see what else they can do...”

He slaps Steve's bare ass and walks insides, knowing that Steve is close behind him.

A soft smile lingers on his raw lips as he hears him closing the porch door.

The sun throws its beams into the room and the soft breeze coming through the open windows smells of summer and promises.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
